


Bound and Determined

by Lorde_Shadowz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Competent Harry Potter, Forced Bonding, Lucius Malfoy Bashing, M/M, Mpreg, Powerful Harry Potter, Severus Snape Lives, Vulnerable Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorde_Shadowz/pseuds/Lorde_Shadowz
Summary: At the request of Draco Malfoy, Harry swears on his magic to save Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy from Azkaban at the end of the war. He hadn't expected just how far he would have to go. Not until it's too late. And now he's bonded to two wizards who hate his guts. And he can't get out of it by the usual channels. So he has to get just as Slytherin as his bondmates.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 34
Kudos: 211





	1. An Untenable Situation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sick of forced!bonding fanfictions where Harry takes bond abuse lying down and then lets whoever he's bonded to back into his life with no repercussions, so I'm writing a fanfiction where Harry's had enough, and is determined to fight back with every means at his disposal.

Harry Potter was sick and tired of being controlled. When he had been a child, the Dursleys abused, neglected and belittled him. He'd thought he was getting away from that when he went to Hogwarts, but instead he was just being controlled by Dumbledore, instead. And now, after Dumbledore was quite dead and the Dursleys no longer had any control over him, he was once again, through no fault of his own, trapped, controlled and abused in a three-way bond.

The frustrating part of it was, he'd been the one to first suggest said bond. (Well, actually it had been Hermione who'd suggested it to _him_ , but who's counting.) It had been in the weeks just after the war, when Death Eaters were being executed right and left, and Draco Malfoy, despite being acquitted for his own (extraordinarily minor) war crimes, had begged Harry to save his father and godfather by any means at his disposal; the implication had been that Harry would be able to get a pardon for them, being a war hero and the bloody Boy-Who-Lived-to-Have-a Hyphenated-Name. He'd certainly tried that first. He'd even hired several lawyers; as a matter of fact, the only thing he did not stoop to was bribery. But he hadn't made any headway at all. Lucius Malfoy was legitimately a war criminal, and though Snape should have actually gotten an Order of Merlin for his efforts in the war, no one seemed to be able to forget that he had been the one to kill Albus Dumbledore, even if it had been under orders and compelled by magic.

It had been Hermione, in the end, who had found it: an old, obscure clause in an old, obscure law book that states that a life-bonded wizard could not be punished by death or the Kiss, or even extended imprisonment, if he had an innocent life-bonded partner. Harry had wanted to save that idea for a last resort, and Hermione hadn't wanted him to do it at all, but at last, with the Kiss looming on the horizon for both of the other wizards, his saving-people thing had kicked in, as well as the vow he had sworn to a desperate Draco, and he'd proposed the bond.

The other two, considering that their backs were against the wall, accepted. Harry should have seen it coming.

The same law book which had provided the loopholes necessary to save the Slytherins had also provided the loopholes necessary to condemn Harry, because, although the magical life-bond they were going to use was a bonding of equals (master/concubine bonds were no longer legal in Magical Britain, for the excellent reason that the bond was permanent, allowed total control over the 'lesser' bondmate, and did not have to be consensual) the legal system had some rather primitive regulations in place, such as the fact that if one of the wizards was over magical majority (seventeen) but under political majority (twenty-four) he or she would be in complete legal submission to his or her partner, until either full majority or full consumption of the bond (this was traditionally to 'protect' child brides or arranged bondmates). For a heterosexual bond, it was quite simple enough...but it was more complicated for a wizards' bonding. Especially if there were three, emphatically male wizards involved.

And thus Harry Potter found himself, at age seventeen, life-bonded to two wizards who had never really liked him and now were in total control of him. And he couldn't get away, or even take a lover, until he was twenty-four and they could reevaluate. In hindsight, it was a really bad idea.

To be fair, Snape was at least trying. He at least made an effort not to be as unpleasant as he had been in Harry's Potions lessons in years past, and he was as gentle as possible in consumating the bond, which Harry had really not expected (but was certainly grateful for). And he hadn't touched him again, which Harry was also grateful for. That didn't mean that he was going to allow Harry to top to complete their part of the bond, though, and that still rankled, but at least he wasn't outright abusive.

Harry could not, however, say the same about Lucius. The man was certainly fine with defiling "the Chosen One", but as long as only one of them topped, the bond was only half consummated, and to make it worse, the vows that Harry had taken when they bonded stated that until the bond was full, or Harry was legally allowed to walk away, Harry had to obey the man's every command or have his magic blocked until his full majority. Despite the fact that Harry was both of higher rank politically and more magically powerful, as a matter of fact, nearly as powerful as Merlin.

Thus, it was only the threat of his magic being inaccessible for years that kept Harry from going against the laundry list of commands Lucius wanted him to follow. He had to give his wand and Gringotts key to Lucius. He could not ask questions. He could not speak unless first allowed to or asked a direct question. He was not allowed to play Quiddich. He was not allowed to leave the grounds. He was not allowed to take a job. He was not allowed to write anything, even a journal or a diary entry, without showing it to Lucius. He was not allowed to talk to his friends, much less invite them over or go to their place. He was not allowed to read anything not pre-approved...

Even Snape objected to some of the most stringent of these commands, but Lucius did what he wanted, whenever he wanted. Including in the bedroom.

And Harry could do nothing about it, except fume in silence, and practice his wandless magic in secret in the bed at night; as Slytherin as Lucius was, he'd forgotten to add: "don't practice magic at all" in the command list; he'd only prevented Harry from using his wand or brewing potions without his or Snape's direct permission. And so Harry practiced, hoping to be proficent enough to defend himself when Lucius went too far, and the rest of the time he cooked and cleaned, because why would you employ a house elf if you could have a savior?

"POTTER!" Lucius shouted.

Case in point. Harry sighed, but swallowed his complaint; he was not allowed to complain. "Yes sir?" you would think that, being bonded, he'd be allowed to use his bondmates' first names, but no!

"Have you forgotten what day it is?"

Harry got a sudden, sickening flashback to his twelfth summer at the Dursleys; it was his birthday, but it was doubtless Lucius actually wanted to wish him "Happy birthday". Hell, he probably hadn't genuinely wished _anyone_ happy birthday since Draco's sixth birthday. "Apparently."

"You idiot!" Lucius never tired of belittling him, despite the fact that it had gotten old in the first few days. "It's your birthday, Potter, and there's a ministry party in half an hour. If you don't make an appearance, there _will_ be public blowback."

"Not to mention that your _adoring_ public will expect you to be out spending ridiculous amounts of galleons," Snape, who had come up behind the blond aristocrat, added. "Get your robes on. Your _dress_ robes on."

Just once Harry wished he could do what he actually _wanted_ for his birthday; stay home, have a nap, maybe a bath, and have all his wishes catered to by the bastards that were his bondmates. Or possibly even just talk to his friends, even for just a few hours. But _no_. He would have to go to some totally inane ministry function in stiff, itchy dress robes, get home far too late and, if he were especially unfortunate, be treated to Lucius's special brand of _attentions_ , as a _treat_.

"Yes sir," he responded dully, walking up to his room. Lucius followed him, closing the bedroom door behind them, and went straight to Harry's wardrobe as if he could not be trusted even to pick out his own. And then he stripped him to arrange the robes on him, and Harry closed his eyes and tried not to move. He had not been expressly ordered not to bite his elder bondmate, but one had to keep something up one's sleeve, right? Even if he was just about to scream at the way Lucius was touching him.

In the end, he had to admit that he didn't look bad. He was at least dressed in Gryffindor colors- formal red, edged with gold and with the Potter and Black crests on his chest- but he really resented the expensive, ruby-encrusted choker that made him feel like he was wearing a dog collar. And he also quite disliked the way Lucius was looking at him, as if he wanted to jump him right then and there.

And then a plan, which Harry had long since relegated to the territory of daydream, drifted across Harry's mind once again, and a faint, wistful seed of hope began to form deep within him, so deep that it could never be found, could never be weeded out. Maybe, just maybe, there could be a way out of it.

"S-sir?"

"Yes, Potter?" Lucius sounded bored, and perhaps a little annoyed.

"May I please use my wand, just for this evening? It _is_ my birthday." Not that they'd done anything for his birthday before. Merlin, it hurt having to _beg_ for something that had been rightfully his from the time he was eleven.

"Perhaps..." Lucius condescended. "Severus, what do you think?"

As if he were a child! Harry fumed inside. "If I don't have my wand and don't talk to my friends, people are going to start to wonder," he said at last, knowing full well how heavy handed it sounded. But he was desperate, and besides, he didn't want to tip his hand all the way.

Lucius smirked at his words. "We've got ourselves a Slytherin," he said indulgently, ruffling Harry's hair roughly in a way that made Harry feel distinctly uncomfortable. He knew that he would pay tonight, but it seemed that the man was going to concede the point. "Very well," Lucius said after an agonizingly slow moment. "You may have your wand and cast magic, as long as you don't hurt either of us or attempt to escape. The privilege ends at midnight. As for your friends, if they are there you may speak with them, although you are expected to stick closer to the pure circles of society. You may not go off And snog any fangirls or practice adultery, and say nothing uncomplementary about either of us; no spilling to the press."

Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from voicing what he thought about _that_ , and said only. "Yes. Thank you."

"Yes, _what_?" Lucius hissed, a slight hint of danger slipping into his tone.

Snape's already pale skin went paler still. "Lucius, I don't think-"

"Shut up, Severus, you were the one who said we should keep the whelp in his place. Potter?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied dully, and submitted to the pet he was awarded. "Just a moment, I've got to go to the loo."

"Hurry it up then, we can't be seen to be late at your party, you ungrateful-"

"Lucius!"

"Severus," the aristocrat returned warningly, eyes narrowed. The Potions Master subsided at once; what was that about?

Harry took a moment to ponder that as he retreated into the bathroom, locking the door behind him for the first measure of privacy he'd had all day. He was under no illusions that said door would actually protect him if his bondmates wanted in, but there was nothing he could do on that front. He sucked in a few slow, deep breaths, and then straightened. Right. The plan. Here would be the hard part.

While Harry had not been allowed to make or buy ready made potions, his bondmates, having never allowed him in the potions lab, (or even keying him into the wards, in the case of Snape's private lab) had not bothered to tell him that he was not allowed to take any of their potions, as the only potions that were not kept either in Snape's private lab or in the lab at Malfoy Manor were medicinal potions, and his bondmates, for all their faults, had never refused him medicine when he needed it. And so, kept under the sink in a jar labeled "mothballs" (his bondmates never bothered to clean the muggle way, after all) he had several very useful potions, including polyjuice and veritaserum, which he'd had before the bonding, and several healing and lust-inducing potions, which he had swiped from the medicine cabinet. There would probably never be a time more apt, he thought grimly, wandlessly charming the bottles he had chosen not to break or be tainted by foreign magics before shrinking them and hiding them in his robes. It was time.

Lucius was calling through the door. "Hurry up, Potter, you're going to make us late!"

 _As if I care,_ Harry thought angrily, but immediately "finished up" and hurried out, and in a few minutes, they were flooing into the Ministry, having their wand's scanned, and entering the red and gold draped Official Ballroom, where Snape drifted off to talk to some of his former students and Lucius pretended, for a while, to be the deferential and gentlemanly pureblood husband he liked to portray to the world, although the glint of the choker at Harry's throat made the truth blatantly clear to those in the know. At last, however, Harry made his way over to talk to a slightly worried-looking Ron and Hermione, and Lucius went to talk to some of the other purebloods, probably more to get away from the mudblood and blood-traitor then out of any urge to let Harry have some social time. As soon as he was out of sight, Harry wandlessly redirected the eavesdropping spell and cast a few privacy spells, also wandless.

"Hey mate, are you ok?" Ron asked as soon as the tingle of the privacy charms touched his skin.

Harry winced, but said brightly, "absolutely!" knowing they would get the message.

Sure enough, Hermione's lip began to tremble. "Harry, I'm so, so sorry. I should have tried harder to find a way-"

"Hermione, it's fine," Harry responded, smiling at her. "Snape's been great, especially after how he used to treat me" yes, ignoring someone is better than spilling all the vitriol possible at every opportunity "and Malfoy's much better than I'd expected" well, Harry supposed that was true, too, since he'd expected to be _crucioed_ within an inch of his life if he "misbehaved".

His friends, however, had known him long enough to be able to pick up on the subtext. "It's only a few more years," Ron said flatly, as if trying to cheer him up. It didn't work much, but it _did_ remind him of his plan.

"Guys," Harry began, "um, I have this great idea, but I need some help."

"What is it? Are you going to get those bastards back?"

Harry said nothing, so as not to go against his orders, but the grimly pleased look on his face said everything they needed to know. "I need one of you to pretend to leave early and then sneak back and polyjuice into me," he said at last.

The two of them stared at him.

"For this to work," he went on, "one of you will have to play me. I will 'crash' the Ministry ball as an unknown pureblood, and I will try to get close to them. I don't want Snape to be hurt," he added, "and Lucius isn't to be killed." The implications were clear enough. "Mostly I just want to have an unbiased conversation with them; although I will need your help" a pause as Harry struggled with the phrasing and the magic closing up his throat. "but I do plan to seduce Lucius, the way he did me." Harry put strong emphasis on 'seduce', and 'the way he did me' and watched their faces darken.

"I'll do it." Hermione said at once.

"Do what?"

"I'll play you; Ron can be your magical backup."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, for the first time seeing the end of the tunnel approaching.

"That's what friends are for, mate," Ron told him.

Harry hugged both of them. Then he slipped Hermione the polyjuice, and disappeared into the boys' bathroom, trusting her to find a way to fake illness and sneak out.

Mere minutes later, a disillusioned figure tapped him on the shoulder and hissed "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

Harry grinned, then watched as a polyjuiced Hermione appeared, still in the slinky, tassely golden dress that she had worn to the function first. Harry stripped under a notice-me-not, and then turned his back while she dressed in his robes, waiting until she told him that he could turn around.

He had to admit that if that was what he had looked like, it wasn't bad, although it _did_ hurt to see that horrible choker around his best friend's neck.

"You look. Good." he blinked. "I'm not sure what else I can say since you're technically borrowing my body, but yeah."

Even with the seriousness of the occasion, Hermione gave a little rasping giggle. "Hitting on yourself, Harry?"

"Hush, 'Mione, I have until midnight to seduce my Prince." A pause. "And then I have to defeat a wicked wizard." The command he had been given earlier that afternoon gave him a warning twinge, but apparently decided that the words were to vague to have defied the command, because Harry could still feel his magic. The young man shuddered at the close call, but at last calmed down enough to begin wandlessly glamoring every inch of his body and then transfiguring Hermione's dress into robes, while said polyjuiced girl watched him in awe. And at last he stood in front of the mirror.

He would not, of course, be any taller, but he wasn't the shortest wizard now anyway, since Snape had brewed him a few special potions for his bonding present, and his ordinarily messy black hair had been transformed into a chocolate brown mane of curls, while his distinctive green eyes were an equally distinctive amber-gold now. The woman's dress which had hung so awkwardly on his definitely masculine body had been transmogrified into open green dress robes, lined with black velvet and edged with green, while Hermione's bra was now a sleek, clinging black vest. Harry gave a faint, serpentine smile.

"How do I look, 'Mione?"

The girl gulped. "Um. If you're trying to seduce your bondmates...it's definitely going to work. You might need some jewelry though." She frowned a little, seeming to be partially recovering from her trance, then picked a bobby pin off of the floor and transfigured it into an armband shaped like a snake. "How's this?"

"Oh, excellent, and not too feminine," Harry told her, sliding it onto his arm. It glinted brassily at him, and he abruptly took it off and transfigured it into a cool silver, then slipped it back on."You think I need anything else?"

"All you need is a little luck, and a little time," Hermione returned, then gasped. "Wait, a little luck!" And at that moment, she unclasped the beautiful friendship bracelet around her neck and handed him the tiny vial that hung from the chain.

"Mione, I can't!" he protested. "Save it for something important; I think I've got this from here."

"Nonsense. You're important. Here, drink!"

It was at that moment that the door swung open...and Harry was left clinging with shock-frozen fingers to the chain of the necklace as Lucius Malfoy came in to berate "Harry" for hiding out in the lavatory on his birthday.


	2. Amir Peverall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Harry begins to implement his plans. Just to clarify, Harry used veritaserum on Severus only, no lust potions or anything; Sev is just so lonely. Also, warning for intimacy, although I don't believe it is explicit or cringe-worthy. I don't normally write that kind of thing, though, so I'm not exactly sure. So yeah: read, enjoy, and review! - :)~

Severus Snape did not, as a rule, enjoy parties. Or feasts, or Ministry balls, or any other large gathering of overly-cheerful witches and wizards. They bored him, and frankly, the potioneers normally invited to gatherings such as these tended to be ancient, dry men who were more influential because of their families or their connections than their actual inventions, and they were nearly always quite full of themselves, too. Conversation tended to become more and more unappealing when it was all about politics. Besides, everyone knew that the only reason he was invited at all was because of his powerful, handsome bondmates. And didn't that rankle!

It wasn't as if he could do a thing about it, though. He had to endure stiff robes whose ornate cut did his scarred, imperfect body no favors, and he had to pretend that he was here of his own free will, rather than because Lucius had threatened him for suggesting that he might stay home. Damn that man! Lucius had never been the best, or the kindest, of men, and now that they were bonded it was worse: the man's assertive and even abusive side came out at every opportunity, and Severus had to suffer for it, even more so because he had to try to protect Harry. Harry! If anyone had informed him, years before, that he was going to be bound in a loveless marriage with either Harry Potter or Lucius Malfoy, of all people, he would have discreetly set up an appointment for St. Mungo's.

And yet here he was, bonded, not to one, but to both of them! It was so hard, too, having to see the boy he had attempted to save for years slowly and methodically broken and worn down, shaped into Lucius's toy. He had to listen to the litany of Lucius's commands that seemed to be calculated to break the boy's spirit and leave him defenseless. He had to walk in on Lucius despoiling the Chosen One, knowing perfectly well that the blond aristocrat he had always admired would never grant him even the right to look, to touch lightly, knowing that he had only ever touched Severus to fulfill the requirements of their bonding. It was so hard to be a kept man, to know that he was as much under Lucius's thumb as the boy hero, but Severus was not one to complain. Meditate on it, maybe, after perhaps a little much wine, but never complain. He had not been able to afford the luxury since he was old enough to express his dissatisfaction.

It was as Severus was thinking on these things, tired of making small talk with blundering ministry officials who all wanted favors, now that he was bonded to the 'Chosen One' and pureblood aristocrats and condescending old brewers who, while competent, did not have the imagination to truly master the art of potion-making as he had, that he saw Lucius returning with a slightly-nervous looking Harry. Severus's jaw clenched ever so slightly. Most of those watching would, no doubt, see a gentlemanly pureblood escorting his younger bondmate with the utmost deference, but Severus had long ago learned to read Lucius's little tells, and he knew that the man was angry, and he could see the elegant hand that he had laid on the boy's back, keeping him 'under control'. He didn't like the look in Lucius's eyes, and Harry, oh, sweet Merlin, all he wanted to do was snatch him away before Lucius could hurt him, could humiliate him. Well, more than he had already. The robes he was wearing, despite their expensive fabric and fine cut, showed Harry off in a manner that made Severus furious as much as it made him want to kiss him senseless... _Severus, don't think of that_...and the gold and ruby choker around his neck reminded him unpleasantly of the rhinestone collars that rich old ladies make their dogs wear. It was a statement, plain as day, and Severus was fuming at the implications, and at the fact that no one else seemed to be taking notice of said statement.

"Severus, how are you holding up?"

"Well enough," Severus replied vaguely, knowing that Lucius would probably make it quite uncomfortable for him if he said what was _actually_ on his mind: "No, I'm tired, sore, bored as hell, and furious because you are the worst kind of wizard and I'm stuck with you."

"Good," the aristocrat responded, looking as if he did not actually care whether or not Severus was having a good time and couldn't be bothered to pretend. Not that Severus would have believed him even if he _had_ pretended to care.

"Are you doing alright, Harry?" Severus added, after a moment's thought. If Lucius confronted him about it, he could always say that he was just ensuring that the public thought that their union was willing.

The boy blinked large, myopic green eyes behind his jeweled glasses, and Severus felt another horrible wave of self-hatred washing over him; why did the boy have to look so innocent and so afraid? It made him feel even worse about having to have consummated the bond, even only half-way; he had destroyed some of that innocence, _he_ , who had deserved his punishment most, had been freed, at the cost of this beautiful young man's freedom and innocence. He truly was a monster.

"Y-yes, sir," the boy replied nervously, looking nearly as cowed as Neville Longbottom in the first year Potions class. Severus closed his eyes very briefly, imagining, for a moment, that when he opened them again, he would be back in the Shrieking Shack, dying, and all of this was just some terrible nightmare in the cold, empty moments before death.

"Shouldn't you be..." he forced himself to sneer lightly " _celebrating_ with your friends?" Translation: shouldn't you be taking advantage of the little free time, such as it is, that Lucius allows you?

"I was just showing our bondmate how much he is loved," responded Lucius, gently, but with a hint of steel. "He can have time with his friends, later; it's his birthday! I have not yet given him my _gift_."

Harry- dear gods above, why was he Harry now- turned nearly white, and Severus had to force himself not to react. Had to force himself not to fling Lucius back into the banquet table and call the Aurors for bond abuse. He probably would have- Merlin knew it would no doubt be the best birthday present he could give Harry- but Lucius still had far too much gold and far too much influence to cross, and he would likely bribe his way out of Azkaban, or even out of an investigation entirely. Lucius would likely hurt Severus a great deal, and Harry too, as if it were his fault that he was being abused. Then the man would keep a closer eye than ever on them, and it would be even worse. Especially since Lucius had made Severus vow on his magic to defer to him in all cases until the three-way bond was dissolved, knowing that Severus would vow anything in the throws of passion, if only not to be tossed away like a used bay leaf before he was allowed to come.

"If you don't mind, Harry and I," Lucius put a slight emphasis on the young man's name as if to prove that he was actually saying it "are going to have some alone time. Shall we meet up again in half an hour?"

Severus had no choice but to comply. "Indeed. I will be waiting for you." It hurt so badly to see the betrayed and fearful look in the boy's eyes, but sweet Merlin, he did not want to lose his magic. Did not want to lose the only weapon, such as it was, that he had and could use against his abusers and detractors.

After Lucius had led his pet away, Severus numbly went to get another drink, and then returned to his chair, only to see that an unknown wizard had taken the seat next to his. Severus caught his breath. He was beautiful. And not beautiful in the sense that Harry was, rumpled hair and expressive, innocent yet old green eyes. No, he looked...dangerous. As if the rugged beauty of an African lion had been crossed with the grace of a cobra, perhaps. He had form-fitting black garments with formal green dress robes over them, showing off every inch of him, and a mane of brown curls dark and rich as chocolate, with golden eyes that reminded one of a hawk's. Severus swallowed hard and hurriedly occluded. "Hello," he said quietly, barely able to trust himself to speak. At least his voice didn't seem to waver too much.

"Hello," replied the wizard with a warm smile that made something inside of him seem to choke up, stifling. "Have we met?"

"I...don't believe so, no. My name is Severus Prince-Malfoy-Potter. You?"

"Oh!" the wizard blinked. "The war hero and Potions Master? _That_ Severus? I...my name is Amir Peverall."

Severus stared. "Wait. Peverall?"

The man nodded. "I'm part of the Arabic branch of the family," he replied without passion, as if he had rehearsed, or as if he had had to explain himself a thousand times before.

"I see." Dear gods, that name was beautiful.

There was a short silence, and then Amir asked "what do you prefer being called? I usually don't use my last name, but if you're not comfortable using my first..."

"No, it's fine, although you should call me Severus. My last name is rather too long," said Severus quickly. If he selfishly wanted the man to say his name in that beautiful voice of his...well...Amir didn't necessarily need to know, nor did his bondmates. It would be wonderful to have a little guilty pleasure, a memory that he could keep as a memento of his wistful dreams, to tide him over as long as his loveless marriage would last.

"Severus, then," said the man, smiling, and Severus's guts squirmed.

There was another short silence, and then Amir said "I just wanted to ask you, since you're a Potions Master...why does kappa blood have to be mixed with crushed cucumbers before it can be added to anything?"

It was an odd conversation starter, but it certainly worked for Severus; he was quite in his element, in fact. "What kind of potions have you been making that you'd need to know that?"

Amir blushed a very light pink, and Severus nearly lost control. "None, really, not recently. I don't have access to a lab. But I do read a lot, and I quite enjoy your articles in _The Potions Quarterly_."

Severus blinked a few times. He had read his articles?! "I...thank you." Dear Merlin, he was stammering like a fifth year again. "In answer to your question," Severus continued, hastily regaining control over himself, "kappa blood is very unstable, and a large number of things make it explode or cause some other adverse reaction, and it also loses its potency if the heat is too high. The cucumber not only acts as a buffer, but it also keeps the blood from reacting to most other potion ingredients. It was for this strange reaction that the early Chinese had the myth that a kappa can only be fended off by means of offering it cucumbers."

"Thank you," replied Amir, seemingly genuinely thankful. "I knew about the myth, but I always thought it was just a folk tale."

Severus nodded. "Well, for that matter, it is, rather. You do _not_ want to try to fend off a kappa by trying to bribe it with cucumbers, trust me."

"Why? What will happen?"

"It will eat the cucumber and then take a bite out of your arm," was Severus's dry response. "Did you not learn that in DADA?"

"We did talk about kappas, but my uncle's DADA is spotty at best," Amir replied with a grin. "Wouldn't know a griffin from a grindlow if it hit him in the face."

"You were homeschooled, then?"

"Somewhat. I had tutors and teachers and such, but most of it was self or family taught. I assume you went to Hogwarts?"

Severus nodded. "Indeed; I was in Slytherin house." He almost expected Amir to recoil, but the man just nodded.

"I see. I suspect I could have been in Slytherin, although I'm probably stupid and brave enough for Gryffindor, too." He paused at this juncture to take a drink, and realized his glass was empty. Severus was about to suggest that he refill it, seeing as his own was nearly empty as well, when Amir waved a hand and the cup was full again. Severus could not contain his gasp.

"You practice wandless magic?" he asked when he could speak. Damn, Amir was hot. Oh, gods, he could barely keep still at this point; Merlin only knew that Severus was fatally attracted to power. That was what had brought him into conflict with the Marauders, and what had brought him into the Dark Lord's fold, as well as what had initially made him think of going to Dumbledore when his world was crashing in around his ears.

"Indeed. That and swordsmanship, in my spare time."

Severus swallowed hard and took a long drink to keep himself from saying something stupid and saccharine. The thought of Amir playing with swords...oh, gods.

"And what are your hobbies?" the man asked, after a few moments.

Severus opened his mouth, but what came out was _not_ what he was going to say. Although perhaps he should have expected that after as many drinks as he'd had; Severus rarely looked or felt intoxicated until his words were starting to slur, and sometimes, as during occasions such as this, he simply lost track of all the alcohol he ingested to keep himself from strangling the other party-goers. "I brew, mostly. Brew and read and obey Lucius Malfoy's every whim," he said with a trace of bitterness. "Not really much time for doing anything productive when the bastard wants you in his bed." Severus's eyes widened at that. "I...forgive me, it's the wine."

Amir's golden eyes softened. "It's fine," he replied after a moment. "I know how you feel."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"Indeed," Amir told him softly. "Although I would welcome anything short of a blast-ended skrewt at this point. It's been so long, and I get so lonely."

An involuntary shiver ran down Severus's spine. Unbidden, he murmured "I know how it feels." He had never opened up like this with anyone before, well, since Lily, and strangely, it did not even seem to bother him. He _wanted_ to spill everything to an ear at least pretending to be sympathetic, wanted to release all the tension that had been building for months. He got the sense that Amir wouldn't mind, and, to be honest, it was likely he would never see the man again. For a painful moment, he wished that he was not bonded, that he could, perhaps, have this wonderful, beautiful man to himself, if only for a little while- Merlin knew that the man would no doubt tire of him before long, but it would be nice while it lasted, and he would have a memory to carry with him, a memory of something beautiful. Severus found himself counting the different hues he could discern in Amir's eyes, and hastily looked away.

"I wish..." Amir's voice trailed off, and he swirled his drink without speaking.

"Wish what?" Severus found himself asking.

"I wish that you weren't bonded," he murmured at last, golden eyes fixed on his bonding ring. He huffed a long sigh. "Would you...?" he asked after a few moments. "Would you have been interested in starting something, even if just for a night?"

Oh, dear Merlin. Amir was offering everything he could conceivably want on a platter. And yet he was bonded. He shouldn't. It would not be fair to Harry if he slept with some other wizard, even if he didn't care about Lucius. And besides, if the pureblood found out... But "yes," was already bubbling up from his throat, despite his rational expostulation with himself to the contrary. It had been so long since he had enjoyed any kind of intimacy besides Lucius pounding into him to relieve his frustrations, usually not even bothering to prepare him or to stop if it hurt, so long since he had dared to let anyone touch him except under duress. So long since anyone had actually wanted him.

Golden eyes lit up, like fireworks had gone off in the other man's skull, shining out through his eye sockets. "I...really? Oh, dear Merlin yes!"

Severus forgot to breathe. He forgot to think. He forgot his bondmates, forgot that he'd only known this man for about an hour, despite feeling as though he had known him all his life. And it was while he was still floundering in shock, emotion and wine that Amir seized his hand and apparated.

The room reformed, and Severus blinked in bewilderment; the place was beautiful, with plush chairs, a bed covered in sheets of velvet and silk, a great fur rug and a table with a box of rather expensive chocolates and a bottle of champagne.

"Oh, nice!" Amir said, momentarily looking boyishly excited before that aura of pure power and danger rushed back into place. "I didn't expect that."

Severus wondered what he _had_ expected, but was still rather too much in shock to say anything yet. He shouldn't be doing this. He had always valued his honor, his dignity; he certainly shouldn't be throwing it all away like this, for a fling that would likely end in waking up in an empty bed, hungover and alone.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Amir asked softly. "I mean..."

Severus suddenly couldn't contain his pent up tension. He was damned anyway, had been ever since he had been stupid enough to take the mark. On moment of forbidden pleasure...at least he would have the memory of it to keep him warm, when he was finally done to death by the public or by Lucius Malfoy. And Severus let himself fall, and trapped Amir's mouth in a bruising kiss.

"Yessss!" Amir hissed into his mouth, and Severus lost his head. Amir's hisses of pleasure sounded nearly like parseltongue, and that, combined with eager lips plundering his own and hands tangled in his hair was enough to make him forget everything. Oh, gods, this was perfect. This was how it was supposed to be, lightening and magic injected into his veins and strong lips battling his for dominion. Amir's magic began to swell out of him, flooding into the air in a frothing wave, arousing as hell, and suddenly he was being pressed down on the rug, strong hands ripping at his dress robes, and he was totally lost, Amir's fingers and lips caressing every part of him until the man summoned a bottle.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing with it. Severus wondered how he was still coherent and in control, and vowed to change that.

"Hell yes, don't stop," Severus hissed, and Amir obliged.

When Severus came to, he, at first, didn't know where he was. He was in an unfamiliar room, with a distinctly male arms around him and a terrible headache, and gentle fingers were running through his hair. And Merlin help him, he felt so good, even if he was sore and exhausted and rather ill from too much wine and exertion the night before. Wait. The night before. Oh gods, what had he done! He started to jerk his way out of the embrace enfolding him; he had to get back to his bondmates! Merlin only knew what Lucius might have done to Harry in his absence.

"Shh, Sev," a familiar voice told him, and a hand went back to stroking his hair. "You're ok." A pause, and then a the rim of a glass bottle was being pressed against his lips, and he recognized the taste of one of his own hangover cures even as he swallowed it. Slowly, his head cleared, and he turned his head to attempt to explain, to attempt to tell Amir that they had to forget all of this. And that's when he realized that the eyes softly studying him were a deep emerald, and that they were in his own room.

"Harry?!" he managed, black eyes wide in unfeigned shock. "What- we didn't-"

The boy looked at him softly, face contrite and eyes ancient. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to trick you like that, but I couldn't keep going like this." His fingers slowed, tangling in long black hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough when I was myself."

Severus stared at him. "What did you say?" he whispered, honestly bewildered. "And why are we back at the Manor?"

"I said I'm sorry, sorry for having to take another identity to consummate the bond." the boy, no, man responded. "And...you were unconscious for about an hour; I...I thought that it would be better if you woke up at home; I used the Rooms of Requirement before, but I didn't want to take the risk of anyone finding us."

"Harry, I-"

"Yes sir?" Harry asked dully, and Severus realized that Lucius's order of calling them both 'sir' was once again in effect. Severus wondered idly if nicknames or truncated forms of his name would set off the spell; he absolutely did _not_ want Harry having to call him 'sir' again; he was guilty enough that they had consummated the bond without Harry reminding him of the fact that he had been his teacher.

"Harry, I didn't want to consummate it because I didn't want to sully you, not because you weren't good enough. You're everything I could want." Severus didn't often explain himself, but he would do anything to extirpate that look of grief-stricken worthlessness off of Harry's face. Even if the man only looked uncertain now.

"Why would I care about that?"

"I'm old enough to be your father," Severus replied bitterly. "I'm a washed-up ex-Death Eater with no hope for a future, and I was brutal to you when you went to school. Don't you think that's reason enough?"

Harry stared at him. "S-Sev, how can you seriously say that about yourself. I don't care about that," he said adamantly. "'Sides, Lucy is older than _you_ , and is actually the father of one of my classmates, which is rather disturbing in itself. And he's more brutal to me than you ever were. And you weren't a loyal Death Eater for years."

"Harry-" Severus rasped. Harry kissed him silent.

"Right," the young man said at last, as they came up for air. "We should probably get up before Lucius breaks that sleeping spell that Ron cast on him."


	3. An Unlikely Illness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Warning; non-explicit rape and suggestive language. If that is a trigger for you, skip the section that is marked by xXxXxXxXxXx. I must say, this chapter was painful to write; I did not like being in Lucius's head.

Lucius Malfoy was quite annoyed. It was the Ministry ball in honor of Harry Potter's birthday, and he had, quite generously, he assured himself, allowed the boy some measure of freedom, both as a birthday gift but also to serve the double function of ensuring that the public would not think anything was amiss. Not that it was, but somehow he sensed that they would not like it if they discovered that their savior was so strongly disciplined. They would, no doubt, call for his blood, even if he was only trying to keep the idiot boy from making a fool of himself or getting anyone else killed. But seriously, as soon as he gave the brat the slightest bit of leeway, he runs off and hides! Sweet Merlin, what had he done to deserve being stuck with this imbecile! At least Severus was a good conversationalist and knew how to keep his mouth shut and do what he was told...

Lucius looked around for a bit, but the boy was nowhere to be seen, so he cast a "point-me" charm and his wand spun like a compass, eventually pointing to the men's bathrooms. Merlin, he had a bondmate who hid out in the bathrooms like a child!

When he entered, Potter was talking to a young, powerful-looking wizard, and Lucius nearly lost his temper right there. Potter knew who he belonged to; he shouldn't even _look_ at any other wizards. Oh, well. It would be bad for his reputation if he blew off this wizard's head, whoever the hell he was, so he settled for grabbing Potter's arm and dragging him away, then adjusting his robes- hadn't he just dressed the brat only half an hour before?- and ordering him to follow. He would certainly be showing Potter just how much he belonged to him tonight...

He considered spending some time after that introducing his young mate to the upper echelons of pureblood society, before at last deciding to return to where he had left his other bondmate, Severus Snape, a sulky and unpleasant wizard whom he firmly wished had not survived Nagini's slashing fangs during the second war with the Dark Lord. "Severus, how are you holding up?" he asked as he approached, keeping a firm hand on Potter's back as he did so; the boy would not be running away this time.

"Well enough," Severus replied sourly, looking as if that was not true in the least. Not that Lucius cared either way, but seriously, why couldn't the man bother to be pleasant? Lucius's image was tarnished enough by the fact that he had been on the losing side of the war; he did not need it to be dragged down further because he was bonded to a boy and an ugly git.

"Good," Lucius responded, attempting to look as if he was not frustrated to death with the man. Malfoys did not _do_ frustrated.

"Are you doing alright, Harry?" Severus added, after a slight pause, and Lucius tensed. Why had he said that? Severus had never seemed to care about the boy's feelings or even well being, normally; what was he playing at?

The boy blinked at their bondmate with green eyes as wet and mournful as a puppy's, and Lucius couldn't help thinking the brat was actually kind of cute when he did that, in a Gryffindor sort of way. He looked positively delicious, and for the first time in a long time, Lucius wished that he could go home early. It would not exactly be socially acceptable to shag the Chosen One up against the wall in the Ministry main ball room.

"Y-yes, sir," the boy replied nervously. What was his problem? He looked as if he expected to be struck.

"Shouldn't you be celebrating with your friends?" Severus asked with his customary sneer, glancing over at the young wizard. 

"I was just showing our bondmate how much he is loved," responded Lucius, gently, but with a hint of steel. The brat needed to know that there were repercussions for misbehaving. "He can have time with his friends, later; it's his birthday! I have not yet given him my _gift_."

Potter shrank back, blanching; gods, one would think he was being abused. What was the brat afraid of?

"If you don't mind, Harry and I," Lucius put a slight emphasis on the young man's name as if to prove that he was actually saying it "are going to have some alone time. Shall we meet up again in half an hour?"

"Indeed. I will be waiting for you," Severus responded without looking at him. What was his problem?

As he decidedly _didn't_ want to be seen in Severus's company longer than he expressly had to, Lucius led Potter away, to show off his pet to the other purebloods. Well, technically to make alliances and to introduce him, but most of the Dark families were able to read the subtext, though they knew better than to say anything. The food was brought up, by and by, and Lucius made small talk with his exceedingly subdued bondmate over dinner- one would think he was being mistreated by the way he flinched and spoke only when spoken to! The banquet was quite excellent, though, with all kinds of meats, peacocks cooked in their own feathers, tropical fruits, a delicious salad with baby spinach, pear, and goat cheese, shrimp cocktails, and aged wine, and he fostered several important alliances and tested the waters over the chocolate gateau, as well as possibly making a business deal, although neither Lucius nor Ardolf Goyle was actually crude enough to talk about money at a ministry ball, so they would have to wait to hammer out the logistics. All in all, it was a good party, and Potter kept his mouth shut most of the time, so Lucius was not embarrassed by how little the brat knew.

At last, however, it being nearly midnight, Lucius bade the other guests a polite farewell, and looked around for Severus, who, he'd assumed, would still be off talking to the other potion brewers and masters. He was not to be seen anywhere. Damn it. It was better not to be seen with him, as Severus's harsh temperament, combined with his blood status and his war crimes, were not helpful to be associated with, but it also wasn't good that he had apparently ran off. Lucius hid a snarl behind his confectionery smile, and escorted his other bondmate to the floo in the ministry atrium with a firm hand on his back. Severus and he would be having words quite soon.

When they burst through the fire into Malfoy Manor, however, Severus was nowhere to be seen. Lucius cast a detection spell, to see if he had just gone to bed, but no; he was not even in the manor. Lucius could not contain his rage. Someone would pay for this! Specifically, Severus would pay, but as Severus was not here right now, Lucius whirled on Potter. "My bedchamber, now!" whirling around to go to his dressing room- he rather did not want these dress robes torn- acromantula silk could never really be repaired again, even by magic. He did not see "Potter" tossing floo powder on the fire and sticking his/her head in, calling for one Ronald Weasley.

Lucius divested himself of his emerald and copper dress robes and called a house elf to press them and hang them before stalking back to his bedroom, expecting Potter to be waiting for him on the bed. Instead, he felt a spell striking him, and before he could so much as draw his wand, he was unconscious on the elegant sky blue and silver carpet lining his bedchamber.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He woke wrapped in conjured ropes on his own bed, a gag stuffed into his mouth. As his eyes flew open, as he began to reach out his formidable wandless magic to break the bonds, the royal blue curtains around his bed were roughly drawn aside, and he saw, to his horror, Harry Potter, those green eyes gleaming with anger. He tried to speak, tried to order him to back away, but the gag prevented him from giving any command, and he could only watch the boy- man, really, he realized, approach.

"Malfoy," Potter hissed. A shudder ran down his spine. Sweet Merlin, what was Potter going to do to him? He couldn't hurt him, could he? Lucius had certainly given that command... "I think you forgot a few orders," he went on, in a conversational tone. "Such as an injunction against wandless magic." He smiled, and it was not pretty. "And I also think that you forgot that there would be a time when your orders wouldn't be binding. Surely you didn't think that you could abuse us forever and get away with it? Sev, maybe, since the public isn't too happy with him, but have you forgotten that I am the Golden Boy?" He took another step forward, then lazily waved his hand, and Lucius's body locked up in a wandless, wordless _petrificus totalus_. Another wave made the robes dissolve, and Potter paused and began to tear off the emerald dress robes that he was wearing. "You are lucky that you enjoined me not to harm you," he added, "and that I prefer not to leave my...partners bleeding." And then green eyes like chips of ice were searing into him, and, and the boy was pressing him into the bedclothes, magic surging through the air and through him with such force that he nearly lost consciousness at once. And that was only the beginning of what was done to him.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Lucius regained consciousness alone, hours later- he could not tell how long. The frothy warm feeling of a completed bond did nothing to temper the ache of bruises marking his pale wrists and thighs, although he was not in a great deal of pain. He staggered to his feet, still a little dizzy from Potter's sheer intensity, and pulled his robes on, calling an elf to bring him medicines. After the bruises had faded a little, he cast a glamour to hide the rest and headed toward his parlor to floo the DMLE to cite bond-abuse...and stopped just as he was opening his mouth, hand still full of the glittering powder. Who was he kidding? Even with his money, he doubted he could get any court to convict Potter, as most of the truly dark families had lost their lords and their station, and while he did wield quite a lot of political sway, if there was one wizard that the public loved, it was the Gryffindor Golden boy. Well, not so Gryffindor and not so golden anymore, but that would not matter to the tabloids. He was still, after all, a Dark wizard who had been on the losing side of the war, and there were many who would be happy to trample on his rights in retaliation for any injuries that they suffered during the war. And besides, if he took it to trial, he would have to take veritaserum or make an oath to tell the truth, and the public would likely condemn him for disciplining their savior. With the Malfoy stiff upper lip, he tossed the powder into the fire and called out "Ministry of Magic" instead, and stepped through. He might as well get to work. No doubt his bondmates would be back by nightfall, and surely Severus would side with him.

They were not back by nightfall. When Lucius stepped through the fire after a long day, getting cinders in his eye as he did so, only one of the three remaining house elves, Tippy, was waiting for him. She drew his bath and fed him in silence, responding to his orders with only a muted "yes sir" and then popped away to wherever his house elves went when they were not on call. Lucius was surprised to find the emptiness of the house rather oppressive.

The next day was more of the same, minus the way he had woken up, and though Lucius sent a missive to the DMLE, professing to be worried for his missing bondmates, the DMLE head, a rather stern muggleborn, informed him coldly that they had filed for sanctuary from bond abuse, and that the Ministry cursebreakers had broken the magically-binding vows and freed them. Apparently it was only Harry Potter's reticence and dislike of media scandal that had kept the case under wraps. That night he returned to an empty house, and sank into a restless sleep on a bed tainted by Potter's rape.

The rest of the week followed in the same way. He returned, day after day, and surprised himself in that he seemed to constantly see his bondmates in the corners of his eyes. Sweet Merlin, Abraxas Malfoy would be ashamed if he knew that his son had developed such a dependence on human contact.

The next week was no better. He knew, from the Ministry missive, that the bonds had been totally broken, so he should not be suffering from bond-neglect, but he felt horrible and achy, and woke up mornings nauseous and exhausted. Nothing seemed to work, even Tippy's more-than-adequate care and the stomach soothers he had to brew himself, considering that Severus was not there to help him.

By the following week, he flooed into St. Mungo's, to his accustomed private room.

"Oh, hello, Lord Malfoy," his usual Healer said, upon seeing him. She looked rather surprised. "What seems to be the matter?"

"Hello Cordelia," he replied tiredly. "It just seems to be a very persistent stomach flu, and it is not responding to any of the normal treatments."

"Oh," she replied, blinking; he was not normally a man who would concede and go to St. Mungo's over a flu, especially as Narcissa and then Severus had had training in healing. "Right, well, let me scan you. You might have gotten struck with a curse."

"I scanned for that," Lucius protested weakly, but allowed her to draw her wand and scan him, something he would never have done a few weeks earlier, even.

She sighed. "I'm sure, but I just have to check. Right. Hmm. No curses, no spells..." she frowned and cast another diagnostic, which, judging by her frown, turned up blank as well. The disease scans, likewise, turned up empty, and at last she sighed. "I honestly don't know what is wrong with you, Lord Malfoy."

Whatever Lucius had been expecting, it was not that. "What do you mean you don't know what is wrong with me?"

"Exactly what I said," she responded archly. "None of my scans are turning up anything."

"Are you certain? Are there any other scans you can do?"

"Well, there's one, but it would hardly apply to you, my lord..."

"Do it, whatever it is," Lucius responded, sinking into a chair.

She blinked, then shrugged and waved her wand, muttering in a mixture of bastardized Latin and Greek. A moment later a salmon-pink light flared on the tip of her wand. She stared at it, and then at him, and then cast the diagnostic again. "Oh, dear Merlin!" she burst out, blinking at the pink light.

"What's wrong with me?" Lucius asked heavily. It couldn't be good if a mediwitch reacted like this.

"Have you been...active in the last month?" she asked, cheeks tinting slightly. "I mean..."

Lucius blanched as he realized what she meant. "Y-yes." Oh, dear Merlin, could he have caught some disease from Potter?

"Then nothing's wrong," she responded, her face blossoming into a soft smile, although she still looked rather shocked. "I may need to call in a specialist, though."

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

"You're pregnant."

Lucius stared at her. "I WHAT?!"

She nodded. "The first wizard to be naturally pregnant since Patroclus," she told him.

"That- how is that possible? At all, much less naturally?"

"Well, there is a lost curse called Cruinniuc's curse, after the Welshman whose wife cursed him with it for making her run a race pregnant, and there's a dark ritual involving the wombs of panthers and-"

"Skip the history lesson," Lucius snarled. "How is this possible and can I get rid of it?"

She shot him a look- after all, children were rare and precious as gold in the wizarding world. "I get that you're in shock, but you have to calm down, Mr. Malfoy, and you might as well listen to me. First of all, no you can't, not if you want to survive and have your magic intact. Even if you did decide to abort it, by the third week it's already attached too deep to your core- you'd be a squib or worse. As to how, well, it would have to be wish magic. If two wizards want a child together badly enough, the magic actually alters one of their bodies so that he can carry a child. It's extraordinarily rare, which is why usually one of the couple just polyjuices into a woman to get pregnant."

"That would not...that is impossible," Lucius rasped.

"Of course it is, Mr. Malfoy," she responded. "It happened, didn't it?"

"I..." Lucius trailed off, not wanting to admit what had happened.

She was frowning. All at once, she summoned a crumbling, musty-smelling book from her office and flipped through it, moistening her finger so that she could turn the pages. "Oh, Merlin," she said at last. "Who the hell is the other father?"

"Why?" Lucius asked, trying to stall, unable to admit it.

"There...there is another way. If one wizard is substantially more powerful than the other, then he can impregnate the other without the mutual wish magic. But considering your core, the other wizard would have to have reserves approaching the size of Dumbledore's or Merlin's."

Lucius stared at her. There was no way Potter was that powerful. All the same, there was no way that Lucius was secretly desirous of being pregnant by the brat, either, and he had not conducted any dark rituals involving panther wombs lately.


	4. Japan

After Lucius had fallen unconscious, Harry rose and returned to the sitting room, where Severus was waiting, dark eyes glinting with expectation. "How did it go?"

"Well enough," was Harry's grim response. He never liked causing pain, but he had nearly lost control thinking of everything the older man had done to him and his bondmate. "The bond is complete. Now we can go to the ministry and get the bond severed and we'll never have to look at the bastard again."

Severus smiled. "Good. Do you have everything?"

Harry raised his pack in lieu of an answer. He wasn't going to take anything with him except his cloak, the Marauders' Map, his Gringotts key, and some potions and books, as everything else that Lucius had allowed him to keep was tainted by the pureblood. Indeed, most of the clothing he owned had been picked out by the older wizard, and was pretty much designed to show him off as the man's pet...actually, on second thought, he could just burn them now, couldn't he? With a wicked smile, he walked back up the stairs. "Actually, I forgot one thing," he said maliciously.

Severus quickly followed him.

Once in the room he had spent so many nervous or agonizing nights in, he raised his wand- Merlin, it felt wonderful to be 'allowed' to use his wand again- and summoned all of the expensive robes that Lucius had bought him-with his money, mind you- and laid them in a rumpled pile on the floor. Slowly, deliberately, he treaded all over the expensive velvet and delicate silk, ruining at least a thousand galleons-worth of dress robes. Then he set the pile on fire, while Severus watched, smirking, as pale gold silk and deep green velvet and expensive wine-colored brocade smoldering and blackening. Harry knew perfectly well that Lucius did not ordinarily come into his room unless he wanted to 'talk to' Harry (and in that case, he didn't exactly pay attention to the rest of the room, per say) so it would take some time before Lucius discovered his little 'present'. Harry added a ward against house elves and turned back to Severus. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes." The Potions Master smirked, showing a little flash of his old spirit. "I'm taking his Potions laboratory. It's not like he'll use it, anyway- Malfoys pay for their potions, as he's always reminding me. So he'll pay for anything that requires more equipment and supplies than a stomach soother from now on, unless he wants to restock the lab. Not that he'll even notice anything missing for a while..."

Harry couldn't contain a bark of laughter at that, and in a few more moments they had flooed out of Malfoy Manor.

They landed straight in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and were at once surrounded with reporters asking for statements and fans asking for autographs...including in some rather inappropriate places. Harry was _not_ pleased, especially at the questions some of the reporters were asking:

"Where's your other husband?"

"Are you going to run for Minister of Magic?"

"Why did you decide to marry a couple of Death Eaters?"

Harry denied them all a response, hurrying towards the check in with a glaring Severus Snape beside him. Then they had their wands weighed and checked and then beat a hasty retreat towards the elevator.

"Don't you want to talk to your fan club?" said Severus as they got on. Harry was about to make a biting response when he realized that his bondmate had the faintest of smiles in place.

"About as much as you want to have an hour-long conversation with Slughorn," Harry said, pressing the button that would take the elevator to Level Three, Personal Affairs.

It took nearly an hour to find the Department of Bonding and Wizarding Adoptions, and when at last they got there, the receptionist turned out to be yet another of Harry's fans, which did not make the process any easier.

And then, finally, they were in the right office. "Msrrs. Potter-Snape-Malfoy, how can I help you?"

"We would like to file for witness protection," Harry said grimly, when Severus did not speak up. The young witch's eyes widened.

"O-of course," she said finally, summoning some forms from off her cluttered desk. "What are the circumstances?"

"Denial of bond completion and bond abuse," Harry said, then looked at Severus. "Anything else?"

"Delaying bond completion to force vows of obedience," the other wizard added, without looking at the ministry witch, who now looked rather angry and unnerved.

"Very good. So, just for the record, I assume it is Lucius Potter-Snape-Malfoy who has been the abuser?"

Two nods were all she received in reply.

She handed them the paperwork and let them read through it- it was just the standard documents, basically constituting a written vow on their magic that they had not lied in their report as they could understand it, and authorizing the dissolution of the bond and the use of identity concealing charms or potions and a magical name change. Then she had them pulse their magic through it, and the papers turned gold, rolled up, were sealed automatically with the Ministry seal, and vanished to the archives.

"You do not wish Lucius to be brought up on charges?" she asked.

The two wizards shook their heads. "No, that would just cause a public furor, and I've had enough of that. I'd prefer to simply disappear and let Lucius deal with the fallout- by the time it hits the papers that his bondmates are gone and someone thinks to investigate, we will be out of the country."

She had them sit down in her office and summoned a tray of biscuits for them to eat while she floo-called her superiors and told them the situation, and before more than a few minutes had passed, a cursebreaker who she had promised would be 'discrete' came through the fire.

"Bill?!" Harry burst out, while Severus said "Weasley?" not having known the young man personally.

Bill Weasley looked startled. "Harry? Professor?"

"Severus," Severus told him grudgingly, not caring particularly for his last name. "I'm hardly a professor now,"

"Severus then," said Bill with a smile, which faded as he went on "what's wrong?"

"We need to have our three-way marriage bond broken and reestablished with just us," said Harry.

Bill's face darkened. "Has Lucius been hurting you?"

The men's silence was enough to confirm his suspicions, and his face darkened still more. "I see. So do you want me to do it now, then? It may be harder without Lucius here, but I can understand if you don't want him anywhere near you."

"Here is fine," said Severus curtly.

Bill pressed a knob on the wall by one of the paintings in the office, and within moments the room had expanded and a painted ritual pentagram had appeared in the center of the floor- such were the perks of a magical office. Indeed, this particular adaptation had been added after the case of a woman attempting to escape bond-abuse being ambushed by her husband right outside the door; since you couldn't apparate in the Ministry, even to another department or a warded ritual room, the next best thing was having a way to do the ritual without even having to leave the office. Bill then rummaged in one of the upper drawers in the desk and pulled out four wooden bowls, which he set at all four points of the compass (marked with runes on the painted pentagram). He conjured water in one, sand in one, a handful of coals in one (after casting a fire-proofing spell) and finally left the last filled with nothing but air. In another few moments he had them take their places in the circle, and then he, standing outside it, began a long Latin chant which would break the bond that held them together and held them to Lucius. Then he allowed them to leave the circle and banished the bowls. Another knob pressed in, and the pentagram changed to a runic circle. A swipe of his wand and murmur of " _orchideous_ " summoned hundreds of little white flower petals, raining down, and it was in this circle and under this floral rain that Harry and Severus were once again properly bonded.

Then Bill stepped back, slightly tired, but grinning, and watched them kiss. "Ok," he said at last. "You two are bonded, and the life-bond connecting you to Lucius Malfoy is gone, at least on your side."

"On our side?" asked Severus, a warning tone leaching into his voice.

"Oh, yes." Bill looked downright malicious in that moment. "Mr. Malfoy would have to come to the Ministry to have the bond dissolved on _his_ side," he said with a wink.

"Bill!" the muggleborn ministry witch said, but she was smiling. "You can do it from here,"

"Shhh!" Bill responded. "This is off the record, but I'm not doing anything more than the bare minimum required by law. If he starts hurting from bond-neglect, he'd better just come here himself."

Harry and Severus both grinned at Bill- well, Harry grinned, Severus's lip twitched up. Which was, for him, the same thing. There was a short silence, and then the ministry witch- Emma, her name pin said- cleared her throat. "Right," she said. "So you want the full witness protection?"

Twin nods answered her.

"Very well. Essentially, that includes valid ministry permission to change your names and identities. It also includes a residence or magical passport, if you need to move."

"The passport would be best," said Harry after shooting a quick look at Severus.

She smiled. "Ok. So what do you wish to change your names to, and what alternative identity would you like to take? Cursebreaker Weasley can change your faces, and I'll send a memo to the Department of Magical travel for your full visas and passports."

"Hadrian Prince." Harry said after a moment. "Severus?"

Severus stared at him, eyes widening. "Prince?"

"I can't keep Potter, and I don't think you'd prefer Black," Harry told him with a shrug.

"What about Peverall?" Both of the others gasped at this, but the pair didn't seem to notice.

"Peverall-Prince?" Harry suggested. "If you want to take the same name..."

"Russ Peverall-Prince," Severus responded, voice rusty with emotion.

Within half an hour, the paperwork had been pushed through in ultimate secrecy, and Hadrian and Russ Peverall-Prince had their passports stamped for Magical Japan, which was as far as they could get from magical Britain, as neither of them wished to be fully and permanently disguised. They made it through customs in record time, as they had the go-ahead from the British Ministry of Magic, and the second day there they had chosen a neat little Japanese house and settled in only a few hours, as Harry only had the one bag and Severus didn't feel he had to unpack all of his things on the first day. It was exhilarating not to be recognized, too, and Severus found himself suddenly in demand, being able to produce a number of potions that the few Japanese Potions Masters couldn't make, the artform being relatively new to the magical community of Japan.

But the idyllic existence was broken rudely after only three weeks, as Harry was reading a long-distance owl-order _Daily Prophet_ _,_ as he had kept up on the subscription to make sure everything was going well in Britain. "Severus?"

Said Potions Master looked up from his cup of coffee. "Yes?"

"We have a problem," Harry told him grimly, sliding the paper over to him. The headline splashed across the front page read: **Harry Potter Runs Off With Ex-Death Eater Severus Snape, Leaving Bondmate Lucius Malfoy Pregnant and Alone.**


	5. Acid Pen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter: "We have a problem," Harry told him [Severus] grimly, sliding the paper over to him. The headline splashed across the front page read: Harry Potter Runs Off With Ex-Death Eater Severus Snape, Leaving Bondmate Lucius Malfoy Pregnant and Alone.

Severus's lip curled. "Well, that is to be expected," he said, setting down his coffee. "Still, it's not like it will cause problems for us. He's trying to smoke us out. If we go back to confront him, we'll have played right into his hands. As infuriating as it is, we had best forget about it. It is not like the British public can do anything to us now, it's only a blow to out pride."

"I'm not letting it go," Harry replied, still staring at the newspaper. "It may not affect _us_ , but it will still cause a damn lot of trouble for our friends back at home. Besides, Lucius took everything from me. My virginity. Two years of my life. A substantial chunk of my vaults. I'm not just going to let him drag my reputation through the dirt too."

"I'm not going to let you go rushing back to Britain on a Gryffindor rampage and play right back into his hands," Severus responded. "Besides, since when do you care about your reputation? This won't be the first time that the press has written outrageous untruths about you. Your friends can handle a bit of bad press too; it isn't like it's even aimed at them. And I certainly don't care about my name being besmirched."

"I'm not going to 'go rushing back to Britain on a Gryffindor rampage', as you so eloquently put it," Harry shot back. "My plan is...well...a bit more Slytherin."

One dark eyebrow arched. "Oh?"

"Yes, indeed. If he wants to use the press against him, well, I can do the same thing."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Harry's grin grew downright sinister. "I don't suppose you remember Rita Skeeter?"

"I do, but how is she going to help us? Knowing her, she's as likely to take Lucius's side as ours- he has a hell of a lot of gold, after all. I don't want her poison pen to have anything to do with us."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I have a hell of a lot of gold as well, and I didn't even officially claim all my vaults," Harry responded. "And what better press than the "Golden Boy being taken advantage of by a big bad ex-Death Eater? What better press than how I had to _petrify_ him to be able to fulfill the bond? How I fled to start a new life with my true love, only to be dragged back by rumors of Lucius's pregnancy? Besides, if all else fails, I could squash her like a _bug_." That last was said with a devious smirk, and Severus's eyes widened.

"What do you mean?"

"She's an animagus. An _illegal_ animagus. She'll dance to whatever tune I set to stay out of Azkaban."

A slow smile began to spread all around Severus's face. "I begin to see your point."

"Good. Because you're not going to stop me. Let's start packing."

_"What?!"_

"An overnight bag," Harry clarified. "We might have to stay in Britain longer than anticipated, and even if we can just conjure or buy what we need, it'll make things easier. We'll have to set up an appointment with Rita, and then I want to talk to Lucius. Actually, screw that, I don't want to see his pointy face again. Not until I drag him into court on bond abuse charges to take that baby away from him."

An hour later found them in Japan's International Magical Customs, having their wands weighed, casting last-minute glamors, and talking to the friendly receptionist while they were waiting for their international portkey to go off. (Britain was far too far away to apparate.) At the call of "Torippu 29 tōjō," they walked over to the international portkey bay and took hold of the great white rope which was to take Trip 29 to Magical Britain.

They landed in the British international portkey bay accompanied by about twenty other people (the others on their portkey trip) Harry stumbling ungracefully against his bondmate.

"Sweet Merlin, I hate those things," Harry muttered, letting go of the rope as though it were a runespoor. "How do you keep from falling over, Russ?" They were once again using one another's assumed names.

"I bend my knees a little to absorb the shock. No one ever told you how to take a portkey?"

"I took them a total of maybe six times, and since one was during the Triwizard and one was just after I'd been possessed, I wasn't exactly keen to practice," Harry replied sourly as they waited for their bags to appear in the specialized Vanishing Closet that wizards in most developed magical countries typically used to transport luggage. "And no one ever tells me anything."

"I apologize, Amir," Severus replied. "That was uncalled for."

"It's ok." Harry dragged their bags out of the transporter. "I think we have a certain beetle to intimidate now, anyway."

They traversed the streets of London quickly (neither of them had ever been to the main office of the _Daily Prophet_ , and thus they couldn't just apparate straight there) and at last made it to a gaudy building that was evidently a closed muggle bank.

"Is this it, Russ?"

Severus nodded, and they approached the doors. At the door, they both stopped.

"Um, do you know how we get in?" Harry asked.

Severus closed his eyes briefly. "Press the eyes and stroke the tongue," he murmured under his breath.

"What?!"

"The lion statue." Severus strode to the stone lion gargoyle just to one side of the door and pressed in the stone eyes, then ran his finger down its elegantly-carved tongue. At once, the statue, which had been carved in a recumbent position, sat up as if to attention. Then the mouth opened choppily, even as the shimmer of an automated anti-muggle ward went up.

" _Daily Prophet_ Headquarters, this is Maggie, how can I help you?"

"Can you give Rita Skeeter a message?"

"Is it for business?"

"Yes. Can you tell her that we wish to discuss a prospective interview, at whatever time she wants?"

"Who's _we_?"

"Harry Potter and a companion."

There was a rather unprofessional squeak on the other end of the line, and then 'Maggie' said, "Certainly, I'll take the message. Where do you plan to meet with Reporter Skeeter?"

"Is Flitterbloom Bar and Grill acceptable?" The restaurant that Severus had mentioned was a casual but rather nice little grill in Diagon Alley, acceptable for a meeting of this sort, and the receptionist responded that it was certainly ok. Now all they had to do was wait.

They didn't have long to wait, either. Rita Skeeter came out quickly, as quickly as possible, and in only a few minutes they were ensconced at one of the back tables of the Flitterbloom Bar and Grill with drinks and a bowl of levitating crisps. Rita at once pulled out her notebook and the acid green quik-quotes quill that she always carried with her. "So, um, why did you want to meet with me, Mr. Potter?" she asked, eyes shining with excitement. "And who's your companion?"

"This would be Severus Snape," Harry replied, smiling, and her eyes widened. Evidently she had not recognized the man dressed in the green dress robes he was sporting and smiling, rather than his habitual vampire bat black and sporting his usual sneer. "And I think you know why I want an interview, don't you? No need for the quik-quotes thing, either; I think you can get enough of a headline just with what I have for you."

Rita tucked the offending quill behind her ear and drew out an ordinary, unspelled one. "Oh?"

"Indeed." Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands tucked under his chin, the very picture of relaxation. Even if he was anything but relaxed. "To start with, I think you've read the headlines about my so-called 'abandonment' of my bondmate Lucius Malfoy?"

She nodded, beginning to look more and more excited. "Yes, I have. But I want to know your side of it."

"Oh, do you? In that case, we- Severus and I- have a story for you. This may take a while.

Rita picked up her cocktail and swirled it idly. "I'm listening."

"Ok." Harry sucked in a long, deep breath. "So it started with a promise that I made to my classmate Draco..."

Rita was scribbling at once, eyes bright with anticipation, and Harry knew that she would be a worthy adversary for whomever Lucius paid to write complementary stories. After all, they were talking to Rita Skeeter, a woman who, regardless of her faults, was definitely good at one thing, that thing being writing inflammatory articles. For the right price, and the promise of headlines, Harry had no doubt that she could have made Voldemort's resurrection sound like the second coming of Merlin, even now. Lucius Malfoy would not stand a chance against her acid pen, with luck. And hopefully, too, the people's sympathies could be swayed back to Harry's side. Not everyone bought into the pureblood party line, after all...


	6. The Snake Strikes Back

Lucius Malfoy's day started out well enough. He was unfortunately feeling a little bloated and ill when he woke, but at least he did not have to stagger immediately to the loo and lose everything that he had attempted to eat the previous night, and by the time he had gotten dressed in some relatively loose and comfortable semi-formal robes (a beautiful dove grey silk that he had bought for himself as consolation for the trauma that he had undergone) and rang for Taffy to set out a full English breakfast while Lolly drew him a bath, he felt that he was definitely, if not on the road to recovery (he wouldn't, of course, recover- not until the baby was _out_ of his elegant body) than at least better than he had been the past few weeks. He might as well pamper himself, at least a little, since no one else would. And really, was it necessary to go in to work today?

A long, indulgent soak went even more towards helping him feel human again, and his happiness only increased when he was actually able to get down all of the food without any nausea, although, he reflected, that was a rather pathetic thought. He wasn't sure how long that this reprieve would last, either, but he was certainly glad, especially since the meal was actually quite delicious. Then he called for his elves to leave him, after giving orders for Taffy to let in the owl that would bring him the paper- he hated having them staring at him with their big bulbous eyes while he tried to eat and read the paper, even if having the their to wait on him hand and foot was a little tempting.

It was as he was finishing said breakfast, however, that an owl, let in by Taffy, swooped smoothly into the Dining Room (which, although he would never admit it, felt rather vast and intimidating without his idiotic bondmates, although not enough for him to make the move into some other room) and let fall the _Daily_ _Prophet_ in the middle of his porridge, along with a dropping. Then, unfortunately, the horrible thing flew away before he could hex it, leaving Lucius in a decidedly sour mood. Oh, well, never mind. He had no doubt that the young woman that he had hired to slander his bondmates would have succeeded in making Potter, at least, come back, and damn, had Lucius actually missed him? Oh, probably just missed having the Gryffindor in his bed. His mood soured a little further at that, remembering what the brat had done to him. Oh, Lucius was going to get payback, just as soon as the idiotic boy came crawling back to him. And Severus! Lucius shocked himself by actually wishing that the man was back as well. Oh, well. The man was a good Potions Master, after all, and Lucius missed a number of his potions more than he would ever love them man. Lucius opened the paper. And then his steel grey eyes rolled up and he slid bodily out of the chair, grasping fruitlessly at the great gold and blue tablecloth in an effort to stay upright.

Lucius Malfoy woke to a horrible headache, and realized, after a moment of fruitless pondering, that he was actually lying on the floor of his owl Dining Room, cheek pressed against the cold tile and white-blond hair splayed all over the place. What the hell had happened? And then all the memories came rushing back, and he saw the paper lying, mockingly pristine, beside the broken dishes and the food that had flown from the great table when he had dragged down the tablecloth with him. Well. It seemed that his bondmates had been busy, as Rita Skeeter had written a particularly nasty article about how he had been treating his bondmates. Dear Merlin, one would think he had been abusing them! Had he? Lucius quickly stifled that thought. No, of course not. Prince Potter likely hadn't liked having to have to follow rules- that would explain why he had absconded with Snivellus. Damn. This would mean a great deal more trouble for him; he'd have to go talk to the _Prophet,_ maybe even bring Skeeter up on charges of slander, and then of course he would have to find someone to write articles meant to counter the negative press. Lucius got slowly to his feet, caressing the back of his head. Why in Merlin's name had his house elves not cleaned up this mess?! He opened his mouth to call Tippy and make her clean it up by hand when, all of a sudden, another owl, this one an unpleasant looking officious eagle owl, flew in by the same window that Tippy had let the _Prophet_ owl in. Dear Merlin, what now?

What in Arthur's name?! How dare they give him a court summons? Potter and Snape ran away, leaving him pregnant and bleeding, and the Wizengamot decided that _he_ was to blame? Go figure. Of course he would be the one to blame, when the other two were a world class potion master and the bloody boy who wouldn't die! Lucius snarled, called Lolly in to clean up the mess in his dining room, and then proceeded to ascend the stairs to get changed, knowing that no one would take him seriously if he was wearing an informal grey robe and most of his breakfast. He had a retraction to force through, and possibly, if the newspaper didn't listen to him, a Prophet to buy out, and then he was going to have to go find a lawyer to speak for him when he had to appear in court the following week. What did they even want him in court for?

Twenty minutes later found him going straight to the Prophet headquarters, dressed in Slytherin green and silver robes which actually looked quite good, if he was to say so himself. He left the manor (floo, he had found, made him nauseous to the point of misery, now that he was carrying Potter's brat) and then he apparated to the very untasteful muggle building that was the headquarters of the _Prophet_. There he walked to the gargoyle by the great, ostentatious doors- sweet Merlin, who would put that much fake gold paint on _anything-_ and jabbed the stone eyes viciously, then ran his finger along the stone tongue. Ridiculous. Completely and totally ridiculous. At once, the statue sat up as if to give the allusion that it was sentient, and then a shoddy automated ward buzzed in the air.

"Daily Prophet Headquarters, this is Maggie, how can I help you?"

Lucius closed his eyes very briefly. Merlin save him from administrative idiots.

"I would like to speak to the manager."

The woman had the nerve to give a little huff. "Sir, we are very busy, and I don't think-"

"I can make it worth your while if you let me in," Lucius responded calmly, trying to keep his temper. "I have urgent business."

"I don't think-"

Lucius's eyes narrowed, unseen. Then he tapped the door knockers (merely formality, in the end) and walked straight in. He was not accustomed to suffering fools. He then bypassed the front desk by casting a simple _confounding_ spell on the receptionist, and then cast another quick spell to find the orientating map of the _Prophet_ office. Ok. So the manager's office was on the second level, B4. Very well. Lucius strode through the hallways, brushing past somewhat startled Prophet employees, and made his way straight to the office, where he pounded on the door. They ought to be lucky that he had knocked, honestly.

"Sir, what can I-"

Lucius cut the man off before he could begin to order him out, or, worse, brown nose. "I would like to speak to you about one of your feature writers." There. No nonsense, to the point, but also not insulting the man straight out, although Lucius certainly wanted to do that quite a lot.

"Oh. What is the issue, Mr_?"

Dear Merlin, how could the man not recognize _him_? Was he a mudblood? That would explain a lot... "Malfoy," he filled in. "The issue is with Rita Skeeter."

The man looked distinctly nervous at that, although Lucius could not tell whether he was more nervous about Lucius's name or about whatever complaint that the man thought he was going to bring up. "I-"

"I would be very pleased if you were to print a retraction," Lucius went on, for once not interested in trying to lay down the law in a pleasant and round-about manner. "I can understand wanting a cover story, but as it is my reputation on the line, I feel the need to try to correct this. I know you will understand."

"I...I do want to help you..." Lucius could sense a "but" about to be inserted here "But I can't."

One blond eyebrow shot up. "You can't? Surely you are not saying that you condone slander..."

"We do not," replied the other, drawing himself up sharply. "The simple fact of the matter is that it is not."

"Not what?" Surely the man was not saying what Lucius thought he was saying...

"Not slander. Not only has the article been checked against Ministry records, all of the information stated within was provided by Harry Potter and Severus Snape themselves, and Rita can attest under veritaserum that they spoke the truth."

"How would she know if they spoke the truth?" Lucius asked abrasively, not really looking for an answer. "Did she have it from them under oath or something?"

"Sir, I don't believe that is any of your concern. Rita did not write a factually incorrect article, therefore you cannot ask for a retraction or damages."

Lucius's mist grey eyes turned stormy, then to a full tempest. "Surely you do not believe her over me? She has been known to write quite...questionable articles in the past, after all."

"Are you accusing me of lying? Or of knowingly hiring a slander-monger? Rita has had her issues in the past, but none of that has been published under my incumbency. No, I will not be publishing a retraction for the truth, especially not to cover up your dirty little secrets."

"I demand you to order a retraction," Lucius snarled. "And if you do not, I am fully capable of bringing charges against you. Or perhaps even buying your pitiful rag out from under you, if that is how you want to roll."

"Are you threatening me?"

It would not go well for Lucius to respond to that either way, even if he wanted to say "Yes, how astute of you to notice." He said simply that he was not going to back down, without mentioning threatening either way.

"Get out of my office."

Well, damn. This wasn't working. Plan B was to call the owner and buy the damn rag, and Merlin only knew that this man would be the first to be laid off after he had control of the paper. Well, perhaps after Rita, but still. How dare he! "And why should I?"

Lucius knew he was pressing his luck, but sweet Merlin, it was so satisfying to see the man turn that color!

"The baby you're carrying is the only reason I'm not punching you in the face right now," the manager spat, rising from his chair. "Especially with what you've done to initiate this!"

"What _I've_ done?"

"It's _your_ husband who you abused so badly it's in the papers now, isn't it?"

Had he really been that abusive? "Prince Potter, of course. Won the war, and now he can do no wrong, even if it's raping his husband and leaving him over a few disagreements," he spat viciously.

"Mr. Malfoy, I suggest that you get out now, before I call my security. Or the aurors, for that matter."

"This is not over," was all Lucius said as he headed out the still-open door behind him. Well. Now he would have to spend the extra time and energy and possibly galleons trying to call up the management and making them hand over the Prophet deeds. How lovely! And he still needed to go find a lawyer for court the next day, because he would be digging his own grave if he dared to try to represent himself. Hmm. Someone sophisticated, someone who had enough sense not to listen to Potter's sob stories, someone who was well enough respected as to be utterly spotless in the eyes of the Wizengamot. Well this might take longer than he had anticipated, but he _would_ get what he wanted in the end. Malfoys always did. And perhaps his bondmates would even have to come crawling back to him, in the end!


End file.
